Syndicate's Vampire
by Gray Tasare
Summary: Even before the Izanami incident, Yin was already a target and it didn't help that the one in pursuit is someone the Syndicate calls on to exterminate its liabilities. Not only that, he happens to be Havoc's twin and Hei's past rival for Amber.
1. After Breakfast

**After breakfast**

For Caine, the smell and taste of blood in the morning was a love and hate relationship.

"Ugh, it smells like fresh kill in here. You know you could just use a stove, like normal people." The speaker was a girl with dark hair cropped close to her face and still ruffled from sleep.

"And good morning to you, too," Caine replied, finally taking his eyes off the pot of simmering oatmeal and ladling out equal portions into bowls. "And would you please put on something decent? You may be ok with Spyder looking at your ass but I'm not."

Yoni stuck her tongue at him and sat cross-legged on the battered couch in her denim shorts and pink halter. "Anything new today?"

Caine screwed the top on a silver thermos and wiped the red liquid from the sides. "We'll head out as soon as everyone gets breakfast. No one leaves until they eat, kapish? Spyder awake yet?" Caine scratched his head and called out to the roof, "oi! Spyder!"

Lazy footsteps in rubber flip-flops answered him. A blonde guy with a Beatles shirt padded inside the small room blinking blearily. "It's too early in the morning, Pops."

"Then don't drink if you can't hold it," Caine said, wolfing down his hot cereal.

"Whatever."

Caine started washing kitchen utensils. "Don't forget to bring your matchboxes, Spyder. You'll be needing them for today's job."

Spyder nodded and handed Caine his bowl before taking a shower.

"We can take care of it, you can take the day off," Yoni offered.

"No can do, little lady; today's target is important," Caine answered, "why?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I hate what you do after a job. It makes me sick."

Caine raised his brows. "Maybe you think you feel sick but you aren't because people like us can't feel sick. Besides, it's what, only five assignments? Piece of cake."

Moments later, the morning sun still behind them, they piled into a van and drove towards the oil rig up north. As usual, Spyder was driving with rock music blaring and Caine was reading a book while wearing ear plugs beside him.

"We're close," Spyder finally said. "Gimme a shot."

Caine fished inside Spyder's pocket and took out a matchbox. Spyder took it with one hand and carefully popped it open such that what was inside went down straight into his mouth.

"How is it?"

Spyder grunted. "The usual. Furry. Crunchy. Eight legs. You should try it sometime, Caine." He eased the vehicle into a parking position. "Your turn to roll. Don't call me if you need anything."

"Why am I surrounded by disgusting guys?" Yoni sighed, jumping out and stretching.

Spyder tipped his cap. "You should talk."

"Alright, break it up," Caine intervened, "I have a lunch date, if you don't mind."

"Oooh," Yoni crooned, "who?"

But Caine ignored her and proceeded towards one of the dilapidated buildings as if it was the most normal thing to do. Yoni followed, but instead of going to one of the rooms inside, she climbed up towards the higher floor.

Caine felt good about this. Two of the five men in the room he didn't like so much and the other three he couldn't give a damn about. They had received this order three days ago after one of the moles confirmed the treachery.

"Knock, knock."

The reply was gunfire and the reloading of ammo.

When the smoke cleared, Caine showed himself, hands raised. "That wasn't very polite," he sauntered in, "then again, you wouldn't need manners where you're going."

"Die!"

And he easily evaded the knives and bullets aimed at him. He wasn't in the Syndicate's top list for nothing even if his team consisted of a bum and a 17-year-old cover girl. Then again, he wasn't alone and it sure helped that someone was pulling the strings above and making his opponents move slower and making his job easier. A couple of minutes later and it was down to the last guy. Caine gave him a headstart.

"You're cruel, Caine," Yoni called from above the rolling dust and smoke. She pulled the paperback Caine had been reading earlier from behind her shorts. "I'm not going."

Caine shrugged and went off in pursuit.

The guy was dumb after all. The last thing he should have done was wade into one of the canals in hope of escaping under the oil rig's sewer network. Caine gave him two bullets, one just below each knee.

"You know what pisses off the Syndicate the most?" His shadow loomed over the man in pain. _Urgh, _Caine thought, _after rolling in the sewer water, you'll definitely be left intact._ "Contractors who don't know their place and go back on their contracts."

"Damn you."

"That's what the Syndicate thinks anyway," Caine continued, "but want to know what makes your blood boil?"

The man cursed.

"Me."

Caine went back inside the room after his job order had been filled, and started checking among the corpses which was the warmest. Finding one to his liking, he pulled out the thermos hanging from his belt and slit the dead man's neck with a Swiss Army knife.

"You are just like your sister."

Caine looked up, red hair falling into his eyes. "Was that a compliment?"

Yoni shrugged and went back to where Spyder was parked.

"Where to?"

"Just drop me off at the main intersection," Caine said, putting on his seatbelt, "then I don't care if you stuff yourself with hotdogs or salad."

Yoni dropped a torn paperback onto the seat beside her. "Who's your date, anyway?

"Just someone new in town; a mutual friend of Amber's. I'm surprising him with beef bowls," Caine answered, "lots and lots of beef bowls."


	2. Old flames

**II. Old flames**

_*For everyone who's reading this and commenting, thanks for doing so. As writers and readers, all of us know how important and fulfilling it is to have constructive or appreciative feedback. I'd hug you all through ESP and do my remuneration afterwards. _

All it took was an ice bag and a couple of beers to nurse Caine's black eye and ego back to how they were before he met Hei.

Or should he now refer to him as Li Sheng Shun?

"Could you please stop laughing? I know it takes more than five of those to make you drunk and more than ten to make you pass out," Yoni reprimanded, glancing up from the fashion magazine she was reading.

Caine threw his head back and let the empty can roll on the wooden floor beside the sofa bed. "I just can't believe that sonofa-"

"His name is Hei," Yoni said.

"Fine," Caine raised his hands in defeat, "Hei, then. I just can't believe how he does it, you know? That dead look in his eyes? How come it gets the ladies whereas my dashing good looks have to play second fiddle?"

Yoni sighed and got up from her armchair to clean up the remnants of their pizza dinner and Caine's cans. "You're just jealous," she said, blushing slightly, "or do you want old ladies chasing after you, too?"

A couple of hours ago…

"Tempura? I'll have an order," Caine slipped onto a bar stool and drummed his fingertips on the counter. With a sideways glance, he called to the lone waiter. "To go. And I'll pick up this guy's tab, too. There are what? Seven beef bowls?"

That got the customer's attention. From behind the white and blue ceramic, a scruffy head peeked out.

The guy's acting skills were good, Caine had to give him that; but he caught the slight frown, the sudden widening of the eyes and the heightened tension in the air that seasoned assassins naturally feel. It was the feeling of being near a kill.

"You don't have to do that, I barely know you," the guy replied sheepishly, a slightly idiotic smile plastered on his face.

Caine pouted and said, "what? It's me, Seph." He had given him a name to refer to; he would see how it played out. Everyone in the store was now looking at them. "I can't believe you've forgotten me after what we've been through," he clucked his tongue. "What are you doing in town? I haven't heard from you in years."

"I'm sorry, but you've mistaken me for someone else," Hei stood up and began digging in his pockets.

"I told you," Caine stood face to face with Hei, emphasizing his words "you don't have to pay."

Hei looked darkly at him but concealed it by acting stupid. "Um, that's-" he paused, "thank you." Then he turned to leave.

"She missed you more than she missed me, you know." Caine called after him, grabbing the brown bag on the counter and plopping down several bills and coins.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Then Hei was out the door, walking as fast as he could towards an alley.

Caine intercepted him at a crowded street near the flea markets.

"I told you, you must have mistaken me for-"

The red-head took in a deep drag and blew the smoke into the air. "Li Sheng Shun, right?" he shrugged and flicked the cigarette into a nearby trash bin. "I know who you are."

The guy froze and narrowed his eyes. The next thing Caine knew, he was running for it away from the crowds since that tactic didn't work. He sighed. This was taking too long. He had a gig to attend tonight.

He hated asking for favors outside of official business, especially if it was from Spyder and not some cute girl, but this was important. He had to disconcert the Black Reaper somewhat or else it was another thing left unchecked in his bucket list.

A phone call and an hour later, Caine found himself knocking on the door of a small apartment.

Hei had the sense not to open it all the way.

"I'm sorry but I really don't know you."

Caine brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Ah, I see." The he came in closer. "If that's how it's going to be, Li, I'll just say this once: maybe you've forgotten or you're just acting stupid, but I haven't." Caine stepped back. "We don't have ordinary contracts, I'll give you that. Keep it in mind."

Suddenly, an old woman with a broom came up from behind.

"What's this? Are you harassing my tenants?"

"I'm sorry, but this guy," Hei peeked out, eyes wide with innocence, "followed me. I don't know him."

"What? You're a stalker, aren't you? Disturbing the peace, eh? And picking on such a nice boy like Li, shame on you!" She raised her broom high, "Take this, you stalker!"

Caine raised his hands up, "ah, Li and I- we go waaay back. Right, Li?"

But Hei had closed the door.

_Oh crap._

"A woman that age shouldn't really be chasing people down eight blocks, you know," Caine said, finally getting up and throwing the ice bag into the sink.

Yoni perched herself on the table. "So, what are you gonna do now?"

Caine grinned. "Nothing. Yet," he started towards the stairs to dress up for the bar. "But, you know what? I can't wait to fill out the order with the Black Reaper's name on it and I'm betting it's going to be soon."

_*Hate it? Love it? Anything on your mind? Go ahead and press that button!_


	3. Role model

**III. Role Model**

"Okay, girls, get your clothes on. It's a wrap!"

Five models in skimpy bikinis rose from the set and started grabbing duffel bags from the floor behind all the bright lights and reflectors. Marionne Sta. Ana was one of them.

"Oh my god, Leslie! Your boyfriend's here!" a voice called out.

Like any ordinary day, the models in various stages of putting back shirts and mini-skirts shrieked in delight while the model who was the source of all the talk blushed scarlet but raised her head up high, obviously enjoying the attention. Marionne Sta. Ana was not one of them.

She didn't understand what the hype was but it must be something normal because everyone was doing it. That made her abnormal, then; but that was simply stating a fact if you considered her other part-time job.

"Hey."

She looked up. Despite changing, she knew she was still barely clad and attracted attention. But rape or assault was the least of her problems. She always had a small paperback novel stashed in her bag just in case.

"Hey, yourself." She smiled.

The new photographer shuffled his feet. He was tall and on the lanky side with mouse brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses that somehow fit his look perfectly. _What was his name?_ David.

"I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee or something," he said awkwardly, "but it's okay if you already have plans."

Before she could answer, her phone rang. "I'm at work, Caine," she answered, turning away from David.

In the background there was something hissing, like a kettle, and the loud clanging of metal against metal. "Right. Same here," the man on the other end of the line said, "but do me a favor, kiddo. Our contact's not available tonight so go pick up next week's orders at the little shop at the intersection, the one in front of the furniture shop next to the-"

She sighed. "I know where it is," she glanced at David who was still hanging around, "I gotta go."

"You look like you're busy so maybe next time," David said.

She shrugged and winked. "Coffee sounds good."

"Great! Then let me help you carry that," he said and opened the door for her.

After that, David had become clumsier, yet more talkative. She didn't particularly care. She was still exhausted from last night but not too exhausted to put on her act, as Caine called it. No matter what anyone said about their kind not being able to feel anything, she thought that it was easier to at least pretend they could.

"So, what else do you do?" David asked.

She giggled. "I always wanted to do theater. I used to audition downtown, but that was waaaaay back," she recalled, "practically another lifetime."

"What happened? Broke your leg?"

She shook her head. "No matter what I did, they said I couldn't act to fool anyone," she replied, "they said I was just a pretty face."

"That's not true. You're a great person." And even his eyes said so.

They arrived at the café only find it was closed for renovations. A part of the wall was smashed to bits while the other side had a cleanly cut hole in the middle of the brickwork. Reddish-brown streaks splattered the pavement together with the broken glass spread like confetti.

David whistled. "Looks like someone had a sugar rush." Then he glared at the space past her shoulder. "Can we help you?"

The guy was gawking (and looking at her legs) while holding out a police ticket and a pen.

"Can I please have your autograph? I'm a fan. I have all your pictures. I think you're a goddess."

The only thing missing was the stream of drool and twinkling stars around his head.

"Oi! Kouno, what are you doing? The boss will kill us if she finds you flirting," an embarrassed-looking man grabbed his partner by the collar and avoided looking at her. "I'm sorry, miss."

She flashed a sexy smile. "It's ok." She grabbed the parking ticket and scribbled a quick signature and a winking smiley face with eyelashes. "Here ya go."

"Come on, David. There's another one and it's nearer to where I'm headed to, anyway," she said, pivoting and walking away. David followed hurriedly, but hesitated when she turned towards a narrow alley.

"Uh- there's a road here and it leads to the same place," he explained. "That- that's a frat alley."

She blinked innocently. "But it's not legally theirs, right?" she replied, emphasizing her words; "it's faster here. My heels are killing me."

David nodded and jogged down the alley to catch up with her. True enough, a couple of frat men eyed them and none of their looks were good.

"Hey, babe, pay the toll and you pass," a guy with a dragon tattoo blocked their way. "And because you're with him, you have to pay twice."

She glared as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. David blocked the frat man's arm and stood in front of her. "Didn't your parents tell you to respect ladies?" he said, his voice nearly cracking.

Instead of a reply he got a faceful of fist and a hit in the gullet.

Some guys dragged Marionne away while the others started beating David.

"Marionne, run!" he called out…and received a kick on the back.

"Wimpy guys like you," the dragon-tattoo guy towered over him, dragging Marionne's arm up in the air and towards his grasp, "don't even deserve to be with girls like her." He craned his head down to kiss her on the neck. No one saw what happened, except that the frat guy suddenly froze and his head rolled onto the ground.

All it took for her to catapult herself onto the nearest fire escape was that moment of shock. Then, as if multiple marionette strings rained from the sky, the frat men started moving like puppets, killing each other and themselves.

The blood bath was over in less than ten minutes.

She jumped down and started ripping pieces of the paperback from her bag. Her eye caught a slight movement on the bloody ground and saw David- confused, traumatized, but possibly still searching for her.

"Marionne?" he coughed up blood as her shadow loomed over him, "you- you ok?"

She crouched down and planted a kiss on his forehead. Then twisted his neck.

By the time Marionne came to the shop, she was still coughing and trying to swallow. "Do you have water? This stuff is killing me but I have to do it," she called to the small window.

The silver-haired girl nodded her head and produced a small bottle of mineral water.

"Oh yeah, it's a good day to die, too," she said in a sing-song voice.

The silent girl stood up, grabbed something from the shelf behind her and handed over a bundle.

"Caine didn't say anything about it being damn big," Marionne scrunched her nose. The girl didn't even bother smiling politely.

"To whom do I make it out to?" was the monotonous query.

She pivoted and struck a pose, "Write down, Yoni."


	4. Vampire Knight

**IV. Vampire Knight**

_Wooh. It's been so long since I wrote anything fiction. Maybe my brain cells died already, so give me a heads up if this story seems like it's the remnants of yesterday's road kill. Thanks._

Caine hadn't had the crap beaten out of him like this in ages. And whether it was a joke of fate or plain coincidence, it was the same person giving him one hell of a beating as last time.

"You know," he panted, brushing the flaming red hair out of his eyes, "you haven't changed a bit, Hei."

The figure in the deathly white mask and dark coat just stared at him, his hand poised to strike while a silver web-like string glinted in the moonlight.

_Bastard. _The guy knew how to exude a certain coolness without that much effort.

He wiped the blood dribbling from his mouth with the back of his hand. If this kept up, he'd run out on his contract since his own blood doesn't work. He had to deal with the Black Reaper now…and that meant cheating.

"And don't think about faking your own death because that's just damn pathetic," Hei said.

Caine couldn't help but laugh. It was like being back in the old days, but an important person was missing from today's cast.

He slowly stood up and concentrated hard below the Black Reaper's feet. He could have made the man's blood boil, but the Syndicate would wipe out his whole team, including him, if they found out that another pawn had disappeared without their consent. It sucked, but it was logical.

_Just a little more. _He could feel the bubbling, it needed just a little more…until the groundwater would explode in a flurry of hot steam and jets of scalding water, not to mention spikes of exposed plumbing and concrete from the impact.

"How do you like that, Hei?" Caine called out, wiping the cold beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. "Shit. Just lie wounded already."

There was coughing and a clinking sound. The steam partly cleared to reveal Hei holding a broken mask to his face and the other clutching at a wounded arm.

"Can't say I'm sorry," Caine said truthfully, "it's just that I had to let you know you were in the way of our target."

For a moment Hei's eyes softened, then returned to the hard gaze often associated with mass murderers and serial killers. "And here I thought you were here for revenge," he finally let the mask drop, exposing the face of the Black Reaper.

Caine sat down, trying to look cool but feeling extremely groggy. _Blood, for all that is good and kind, I need blood…_

"Oh?"

Hei looked as if he did a double take. "You- don't have news about your sister?"

The steam wasn't improving what he was feeling. "Havoc? She died the night Heaven's Gate became Hell. She's probably in a place where no one can save her."

Hei did an unexpected thing. He laughed, but looked as if he wanted to mourn. "She didn't die there, Caine. She survived Heaven's gate but," he said, turning to walk away, "it doesn't matter because in the end, she died."

Spite was in his eyes. "And certainly she wouldn't have been saved by you."

"DON'T EVER COMPARE ME AND HAVOC TO YOU AND PAI!"

Tires screeched in a distance, the slamming of a car door reverberating amidst the hissing and dripping of water all around. The world seemed to stop as Caine and Hei just looked at each other.

Their staring match was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps and Hei's quick exit into the rubble.

Caine followed him, somewhat slower than usual and against his best judgment. Then again, someone was already coming to investigate whatever destruction they had done to the carnival- best to disappear rather than be asked questions.

As Caine picked his way inside, he wondered why it was always the house of mirrors that chase scenes ended up. A blade rushed towards him out of the shadows then retracted.

"Hei? You here?" he called out. "I just need to know one thing-"

The glass around him shattered into hundreds of pieces.

_You're not getting away that easy, _Caine thought, and pulled out one of his trump cards: a grenade-smoke screen-flashbang hybrid. They had a crate full of it back in their lair- memoirs of one of their old team mates who had been exterminated by another syndicate some four months ago.

"Yo, Hei!" He called out, removing the pin with his teeth. "Catch!"

People usually run away from where grenades are thrown, but this time, Caine did just the opposite and lunged at the carnage head-on when someone else's reflection greeted hi m out of the corner of his eye.

When the smoke cleared, he almost thought that the real stars had come back. He could feel a shard stuck to his leg, and little bits scratching his arms. The explosion had blown a hole out of the makeshift room of mirrors, where Caine had tumbled out with the newcomer.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?" He said groggily, not letting go of the brown head cradled protectively in his arms, partly because she was probably still shocked and because the thought of her blood was really tempting.

Misaki Kirihara brushed his hands away and stood up, gun already a few feet away. "I," she began awkwardly, "thank you."

_She's prettier in person, _Caine thought, fishing in his memory information about the daughter of the Superintendent Supervisor of the National Police Agency.

"Hey," Misaki's face suddenly loomed over him, which he found weird because the last he remembered, he was the one looming over her. "Are you-"

"Peachy," he smiled, "better than this place. I think the question is: are you alright?"

A pink tinge spread across her cheeks. "I guess so. Thanks to you," and without missing a beat, "what happened here? Did you see anyone? Anyone wearing a mask?"

_Damn it, Hei, even when you're not here you still get the ladies._

He shook his head. "I may have but the memory's getting fuzzy. Maybe it will all come back to me over dinner and maybe coffee?"

"Let me get an ambulance, you look like you're dying," then realizing her mistake, she quickly got up. "Not that you are, ah-"

He held up his hand. "I'm serious."

She hesitated for a bit, unusually disconcerted at the turn of events. "Don't move." Then she went off running.

Caine felt his head loll to one side and realized he hadn't the strength left to make it upright. Saving Misaki Kirihara from an "attack" would definitely open doors that would have been harder to unlock. From his vantage point an earthworm looked like it was supporting his idea by waving at him.

A voice snapped him out of his daze.

"Here you are, basically turning into butter because you haven't done your obeisance, in the middle of this carnage, and you're still checking out girls," Lilac sneakers appeared in front of his eyes. "You are an idiot, Caine. Hey! Spyder! Come pick your old man up. I don't feel like chewing paper today."

Hands haphazardly picked him up by the armpits and dragged him towards a familiar vehicle.

"You owe me. I had to look for a spider on the street to track you down," Spyder said, heaving him onto the passenger seat.

If he had the energy to shrug, he would have done so. Instead, he reserved his energy to call out to Yoni.

"There's a calling card in my jacket- no, the secret layer- good. Leave it where I was," he said, "someone has to know how to contact me."

Yoni rolled her eyes but giggled like a teenager would giggle after knowing that her homeroom teacher and science professor had the hots for each other. "You certainly has a way of charming women, huh? You should have lived in the Middle Ages where they don't do anything at all except for that."

And as expected, later that night, Caine's phone registered Misaki Kirihara's number.

_Reviews and other related stuff would be most welcome and would inspire me to write more. Thanks!_


	5. Frozen, not stirred

**IV. Frozen, not stirred**

_As a fan fiction writer, I am resurrected. Or something like that. It feels like I'm starting over so there might be a bit of relapse and lots of crappy moments. It'll pass… I hope. *0_o_

Under normal circumstances, one would say that the dashing man with the red hair, crisp white shirt and tasteful dark jeans had been stood up by his date well after his fourth cocktail.

But Caine begged to differ. Alcohol took his time with his system and so he was confident that Kirihara Misaki would appear through the stained glass doors of the restaurant.

After all, she was the one who made the call. And that very well explained the two to three policemen dressed as civilians pretending to be customers. Caine even felt sorry for the blonde dude who was probably coerced into playing the role of the date. He looked like someone in drag, but as far as this city was concerned, anybody can take anybody on a date.

That was why he was so confident that she will come to him.

He scanned the card in front of him and ordered a Bloody Mary, vowing it would be his last. That was when she came in.

Caine knew from the start that Kirihara would not be like other girls he took out, not that there had been anyone serious after he had met _her_. However, there was something about this _tsundere _character that was both dangerous and alluring…

_Easy, Caine. You're fishing for a lead, not fulfilling a job order for the syndicate._

He could not afford to kill Kirihara this early, by mistake, need or intention. Research and instinct were telling him so.

"Ms. Kirihara, glad you could make it," he said in impeccable English.

She looked taken aback and didn't even bother taking his proffered hand. "I'm sorry I'm late. Something…came up."

"Of course," Caine pulled out a chair for her, waited for the lady to sit down before signaling for a waiter. "Before anything else-"

"You look lovely tonight."

That made her blush, and an awkward one at that. Caine glared. He recognized that voice and it was the last person he wanted to see.

"I believe that as her date, that was supposed to be my line," Caine stood up. "You are as rude as ever," he faced the speaker and through gritted teeth, whispered, "November 11."

Without missing a beat, November 11 gave a small bow to Caine then Kirihara. "Then my apologies-"

"Seph, you know Mr. Simon?"

"We go way back, Misaki," November 11 replied, "although it has been years since I last saw him. Fancy meeting you here with a woman of such caliber." He motioned slightly to indicate that he knew about the gun holstered to Kirihara's leg under the flouncy dress she was wearing.

Caine shrugged, grinning. "Aren't I always? You know my type."

November 11 laughed. "Ah, best not to talk of past girlfriends or the like in front of your date. But perhaps that was why she left you…"

He had not finished his sentence when Caine planted a blow to his jaw. It wasn't enough to draw blood or bruise but it caught him off guard…as well as the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

Caine was too stunned to retort. He was a contractor; why would he get upset over something that had not happened in the first place? Upset? Was that how it was? It was only logical to stop the British buffoon from revealing his identity to a woman of the law and her "concealed" team.

Male pride stopped him from apologizing. It was enough to make anyone's blood boil, and in this case, November 11 seemed like a pretty good candidate.

"Stop," November 11 said, clutching at his chest and while beads of sweat started to roll down his temple. Caine suddenly clutched at his own chest as a familiar tingling and cold feeling swept inside of him.

Moments later, both of them were on their knees, gasping and trying very hard to use their contractor abilities for defense and offense.

"Are you alright?" Kirihara, phone in hand, looking very alarmed at the turn of events.

"Just an asthma attack…"

"Both of you? At the same time?" She asked, bewildered.

November 11 managed a grin. "That's how close we are, right, Seph?" Patting the other's back weakly.

Caine fought the urge to go all out and kill him on the spot. The best he could do was grab at the other's purple tie. "So…damn…close."

"Let me call an ambulance." But as soon as Kirihara had stood up, the man from the other table whom Caine had identified to be Saito Yusuke, tackled her down as the stained glass door and windows shattered to reveal a huge pimped-up Land Rover.

People screamed. There were warning shots from an armalite held by a masked man. Some goon probably thought it was a high profile assault and hefted a grenade launcher.

"Nobody move! Hand over Bakuto's wife and no one gets hurt!"

A woman seated at the far end of the restaurant gave a little screech and was immediately surrounded by her four body guards. Kirihara also stood up and pointed her hand gun at the lead. "You're under arrest for attempted kidnapping of high profile personnel. Lower your weapons and surrender; you've nowhere to run, enforcements will have you surrounded in a matter of seconds."

The men laughed. The lead shot at someone's leg randomly. Misaki's face tensed.

"Attempted? Seconds? You under estimate me," The lead began, and the next moment he had her hands pinned to her back and her hand gun in his hand. He pointed it at her temple. "Is this the best the law has to offer?"

Tug. Tug. Tug.

"Eh?"

Two grown men were tugging at the cuffs of the kidnapper's pants.

"Would you mind taking everyone out? We asthmatics need a bit of air."

Both men stood up, the red-haired guy more shakily than the blonde, but he managed to tackle the kidnapper by the waist when he feigned for support. Taking advantage of the confusion, the blonde whisked Kirihara away and flung her the retrieved hand gun.

The two men then made a run for it in different directions, grabbing and flinging pitchers, goblets and even wine bottles as they went. With the unexpected moves by these two gentlemen, no one couldn't quite figure out why they were suddenly pierced by icicles or scalded by boiling liquids.

The lead was wiser and grabbed the grenade launcher in a fluid motion despite the fact that a moment ago he was at the opposite side of the room.

Click. Boom!

Bodies were flung and ears were deafened. Sirens and warning calls blasted from all sides, not to mention the dust and rubble that now almost covered everything. Some shadows at the back were hurrying someone out only to be stopped by other shadows only to be stopped by the police who had finally arrived.

The Land Rover roared to life. The rest who evaded the cops jumped in and barely hanging on to evade capture. The icing on top of tonight's cake was the slow pitter patter of impending rain.

"Misaki-"

Kirihara looked at the person who suddenly held her hand as she passed by, checking for clues and casualties. Guilt washed over her and it was evident in her face.

"Don't think that every time we meet it has to be like this," Caine said from the floor. He looked very harried and he was beginning to pale too.

"It's," Kirihara began, "it's my fault. Why I was late, this attack, everything. I chose this place because it was the same as my mission: protect the shipping magnate's wife while she did a business deal. We expected something, but not as big as this." She bowed. "I am very sorry."

Caine couldn't help but laugh. "Then why push through with the date when you knew you were going to be working?"

Kirihara reddened but before she had a chance to answer, her partners called her attention. When she turned back to Caine, he was gone.

"The guy who gets the most dates can forego the _Gapo _mission. Best offer, what do you say?" 

A version of Caine, five or so years younger, looked up languidly from the armchair where he was draped over while reading a book. "Eh?"

His companion plucked the book right out of his hands and perched himself on the armchair. "There aren't any pictures," the dashing blonde said, turning it this way and that, flipping the pages and causing a bookmark to fall out. "Oops."

Caine snatched the book back and straightened out his suit. "I know it's damned hot out in the tropics but it wouldn't be that bad. We've seen worse," Caine remarked.

The blonde shrugged. "I'm just saying that the most charming man will get a break."

Caine glared daggers at him through the red hair that had fallen into his eyes. For a contractor, this guy was definitely weird…and annoying. It had been his first impression when he got into M-16.

"What are you reading anyway?"

"Shakespeare," he replied, tucking the book under his arm and haphazardly waving goodbye to end the discussion. "The Two Gentlemen of Verona."

There was a laugh that really wasn't a laugh. "Oh, what's it about?"

Caine spared the guy a glance. "It's about two idiots, some women and something called love." 

"Can you really make it home in your condition?" November 11 said, sitting next to Caine in a shadowed alley as the drizzle fell steadily. He threw back his head, exhaled a big puff of smoke and hacked like he wanted to spit out his guts.

Caine closed his eyes. "Isn't April looking for you? This rain…ugh."

"You remember _Gapo_, don't you?" November 11 said, finishing his cigarette and tossing the butt out onto the street.

"How can I forget? That's where I found Yoni…and where your bet backfired," Caine replied. "Never could understand why I got stuck with you there, though, not after you practically charmed every woman in the building who didn't know you were a contractor. Unless you got stood up each and every time."

November 11 shrugged. "What stuck to me was what you said before pushing me off the plane. You said something like not wanting to waste your time chasing after many when you've already found someone you want to protect and follow to the ends of the earth." He looked right into Caine's green eyes. "I thought that was the stupidest thing I have ever heard from a contractor."

November 11 held out his arm, the sleeve rolled back. "Come on, you know you need it."

Caine stared back with disgust. "What the hell…"

The blonde was adamant. "How much do you need anyway? It doesn't look like you don't have any on you or else I wouldn't be doing this."

"I will die first," Caine growled, "before I drink your blood, November 11."

Twenty-seven missions together and he still hadn't changed.

"I don't know if I taste that bad but I probably shouldn't be around when you take matters into your own hands, huh?"

Caine gave a lopsided grin and stood up. "My regards to April and a finger to Decade when you see him."

"Sure thing," November 11 started walking away, "September."


End file.
